


look after you

by Val_Creative



Series: GoT Drabble-Palooza 2019 [12]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Family Feels, Fever Dreams, Fluff, Marriage, Night Terrors, Post-Canon, Sansa-centric, Sickfic, Sisters, Triple Drabble, Whump, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 10:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18602380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: The maesters believe Winter Fever has claimed her and torments with Sansa with horrific nightmares. It’s only for a little while.





	look after you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Raphale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raphale/gifts).



> I snuck in a little bit of SansaPodrick because I love them and they deserve each other. Requested by Raphale (AO3): "Platonic SansaArya, with Sansa having a nightmare and Arya being here for her." I love the Starks so much and I hope you guys really like this! Any comments appreciated about this!
> 
> ((Want a request for GoT? I'm doing 100-500 word drabbles of any ship + any prompt until S8 ends. Rules: you need to comment here and provide a ship and prompt, as well if you want NSFW or SFW. The only requests I'll be looking at is if you ALSO commented about the fic you just read as well. It's only fair. You came to this fic to read it and me doing something for you later on is a sweet bonus!))

 

 

*

_Amethysts dangle from Sansa's neck. And Joffrey's dead body rises off the gold-painted stones, ramrod-straight like a mummer's doll on strings. He stinks like rot and fresh maggots. Everyone else, even Tyrion, doesn't notice him, cheering for the Royal Wedding's pie rolling out on the cart. She's frozen behind her place at the celebration table, Sansa's heart thudding._

_Red fluid mingles with Joffrey's bile and his poisoned saliva, as it cascades out of his mouth screaming wide-open. She hears nothing except her name, increasingly louder, more wild and angry. He races towards her, up the dais, his fingers outstretched—_

 

"Sansa!" Arya yells. "Sansa, wake up!"

She grasps onto her upper arms, steadying her as her older sister slowly faints backwards in the tub. Sansa blinks, regaining consciousness, getting pulled onto her feet by Arya ordering Podrick to fetch drying blankets when he enters.

But Podrick being Podrick, he's already prepared, respectfully stepping away when Arya wrings out Sansa's long, wet hair, kissing Sansa's hands instead and murmuring softly to her. It earns him a tremor of a faint smile. He may be Sansa's knight and her husband of two fortnights but, gods be good, he knows better than to get in Arya's way when it concerns Sansa.

An ice bath is the only cure for Winter Fever, besides waiting.

One of the maesters from House Ironsmith learned how to treat the affliction from his own maester during the outbreak in King's Landing. Many died, bleeding out of their pores and delirious to the point of scratching themselves and others, but many did survive if they did not have a frail constitution. He claims that Sansa will not bleed, and the fever itself will break soon.

"You fuss too much," Sansa murmurs, leaning gratefully against her sister.

Arya's grey eyes brighten.

*

 


End file.
